Storms
by hannica7
Summary: England's in another argument with Scotland, so he's decided to take refuge at France's house until he and Scotland calms down. Much to France's delight.
1. Chapter 1

On the doorstep of a brick house standing in the pouring rain was England. His normal short messy blonde hair was soaked and lay flat against his head emitting drips. The white shirt he wore clung to his athletic build and had turned slightly see through. His black jeans had grown into a darker black and heavy due to the large amount of rain they held. England's green eyes stood out from the rainy grey background behind him and shone with the reflection of the light coming from the doorway, where a slightly taken back France stood completely dry, his shoulder length blonde hair looking a little ruffled as if he had been awoken from sleep.

"I know you think me bothersome and selfish, but I need to talk to you." England told him

England didn't wait to be invited inside; instead he pushed his way into the other nation's house and stood dripping on the doormat. The front door closed with a soft click and France turned to stare wide eyed at the scene in front of him. The mantle clock chimed two o'clock in the morning. The living room looked inviting to the shivering England, who could see a smouldering fire place, tan sofa and chairs and a coffee table that held a vase with lilies.

France disappeared for awhile and England could hear his muffled footsteps on the carpeted floor grow fainter and then grow louder as he approached. He handed the half naked England a bath towel, as England's shirt had been thrown on the doormat along with his shoes and where causing a puddle. England began to towel dry his hair.

"Pourquoi êtes-vous ici ?" Asked France trying not very hard not to stare at England as he tore off his trousers and placed the towel around him.

"I told you, I need to talk to you. Cut the French rubbish, I don't care for it." England replied glaring at France angrily when he noticed him staring at his chest.

France shrugged and led the way to the sofa with England tailing him and then sitting in a tan chair opposite. France looked at England dreamily, hardly daring to believe that England was sitting in his lounge wearing a towel at two in the morning, telling him he NEEDED to talk to him. England leant forward and touched one of the lily's petals and smirked.

" I have always found it ironic how your monarchy chose a lily to be their symbol. The flower of death. Amusing." England teased

"Did you come ere to tease me Angleterre or do you ave anuzer purpose?" complained France

England sat up frowning slightly, a faint reddish pink blush colouring his face. He abruptly stood up and made his way into the adjoining room which was a large professional looking kitchen filled with stainless steel appliances, marble counter tops, copper pots and pans and a gas stove. He knew his way around Frances house as well as France knew his way around his. The two had, over the recent hundred years, made it easier and easier for the other to get into their house. France sprang from his own chair, terrified that England maybe cooking something. But as he leant against the doorway he was relieved to see England was only filling the kettle.

"Did you want a cuppa tea as well?" England asked

"Fine, fine, but tell me what you needed to know so urgently." France sighed

France watched curiously as England fiddled with the mugs and the teaspoon. Was he nervous or embarrassed? France could see a blush on his face, which in his opinion made England look cute. England ran his hand through his hair making the damp hair stand on end. The kettle clicked off and England filled the cups with the steaming liquid. He turned to France, his blush obvious again.

"Got to leave the tea to brew, that's where everyone goes wrong. " England told him

"Angleterre!"

"Right , right. But first you have to promise me something." England told him his manner becoming business like, but his blush deepening.

"Promise me that you will remain by my side no matter what." England said no longer able to look at France.

France gaped at him. Was this the long awaited love confession he had been waiting for? Both countries had tried many different times to force the other in a union with them. France had under William the conquer, England had under Henry the 5th and almost again under Queen Anne's reign. The only reason that England failed was due to a certain brother and England's bizarre habit of falling in love with his queens, that he usually nicknamed "good".

France got up and hugged England. He felt him stiffen under his grip, but he didn't push him away. France wondered how far he could go; England's soft porcelain skin seemed to be taunting him under his touch. However as England was eagerly awaiting his answer France decided such things could wait until later. He leant in and nipped England's ear softly then whispered.

"Oui, you ave my word mon cheri."

"Bas-bastard I didn't mean it like that!" England gasped

England squirmed out of his grip to finish the tea before it cooled too much. France watched him balance the teabags on the teaspoon and put them in the bin. He frowned as he was still no where near to knowing why he had been awoken by the nation from across the channel. He had so far just pledged his agreement with him, which the two tried to avoid doing in case the other tried to trick them, but France just couldn't resist England when he was blushing like that wearing almost nothing.

"Ow did you mean et?" He asked as England stirred the milk into the tea.

"Well you know what my family is like, we just can't seem to get along. Every few years we try and destroy each other. Right now I'm having a bit of a tiff with my dear older brother, haggis breath. I know the two of you are close, but I don't want you to get involved in this. We've been arguing like crazy and we even brought Canada into it. Ah don't worry (France looked a little panicked at the mention of their younger son) I only asked his advice and left him be. So that's why I am here, to make sure you don't help the weed lover, and also ... erm... cause I need to intrude on your hospitality for a little while." England explained

"Hon hon hon is that your way of saying that you will be staying zee night Angleterre?" France teased leaning closer to England.

England shivered as he felt France's breath against his neck and his blood boil into a blush he was sure was extending all over his body. France smirked and leant closer so that his chest pressed against England's back. He then plucked a mug of tea from England's hand and took a couple of steps back to admire England's reaction.

"Froggy git. But yeah it was, but I'm staying on the couch, ALONE may I add. It'll only be a couple of days until that tartan skirted freak calms down." England hissed still blushing

England drank his tea remarkably quickly since it was hot. He then walked towards the bathroom and noticed France was following him. He turned round with a snarl on his features.

"You're not helping me shower! If you want to be a nice host you could find me some clothes to wear. I can't go round in a towel and damp boxers all the time." England huffed and slammed and locked the door.

"I beg to differ mon cheri, et ez a nice view from where I am sitting." France mumbled

"I heard that! Just find me something! And it better not be girly!" shouted England through the door.

France walked towards his room to find England some clothes. As he walked he had to resist the desire to skip or dance down the hallway. Angleterre was staying in his house, for a few nights. He was pretty sure he was going to enjoy this.

Authors notes:

Sorry everyone! My internet keeps going down cause we've got a bit of a snow storm thing going on. This is finally normal Alberta Canada weather, but our rural internet providers are really bad so when the weathers bad the internet gets cut off. Guess what I was doing halfway through when the internet got cut off? Anyway this is the right story!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 England's weakness

England had finished taking his shower. The warm water had felt soothing as it ran down his cold porcelain body. But now he had warmed up, and after drying himself realized France had never brought him any clothing. He wrapped a towel around his waist once more, and opened the bathroom door.

"Frog! Did you find any clothes that I could wear?" He yelled to the house at large

"Frog ez not my nom Angleterre. Call me by my name" Came the teasing reply

England sighed loudly for his audience's amusement, but leant against the door frame of the bathroom with a smile on his face. He had expected nothing less than these little games that France was playing. Still, he really wanted to wear some clothes.

"Fine. Did you find any clothes that I can wear Francis?" He asked again

"Angleterre, we're nations why would you address me like you're a mortal? Come now, eet ez not that difficult to say." France replied.

England was beginning to tire of this game quickly. He walked down the hallway and entered the living room to see France stirring up the fire place and trying to relight it. He had fed it crumpled up newspaper and was now feeding it small pieces of wood. He was so absorbed in what he was doing that he didn't realize that England had walked quietly behind him. England cleared his throat blushing slightly.

"Merde! Angleterre you startled me! Come on now say et" France said

"Do you have any clothes that I can wear France?" England asked with a small blush

"Oui, on that top shelf over there." France pointed to a bookshelf, that for some reason had a bundle of clothes quickly thrown on the top shelf.

England looked at France questioningly, what was this game? He paused for awhile waiting for France to say or hint at anything else. When nothing came he shrugged it off and walked towards the bookshelf. He stretched both his arms up and stood on tip toe to try and get the clothes down, and as he did he felt two arms wrap themselves around his waist, and France press himself against him. France rested his head on England's shoulder, his hair tickling England's neck. So his game had been a sneak attack.

"I am sure you will like my selection. It 'as been so long since you dressed in such a cool outfit and showed ze world your true self mon cheri, plus et will be fun." France purred

"Get off you wine sodden idiot!" England hissed pushing France away from him and jumping back with the clothes.

A blast of colder air hit England's lower body and he looked down to see that his towel was missing. He turned bright red as he looked at France. France was smirking and holding up England's towel that he had accidently pulled off in the struggle. France could see England had reached his tolerance limit and with a pirouette to turn around he fled from the room laughing and ducking at the table coaster that England had thrown at him.

England fumed angrily. Fine, whatever, he would wear the clothes that France had chosen, that didn't mean he would let him have any more fun tonight. He was grateful for France's help right now. Scotland wasn't going to leave him be for awhile, so it was nice to have somewhere to escape too. However that didn't mean that this night was going to be filled with some kind of crazy love making, though if France had anything to say about it... he shook his head to rid his mind of such things. Gentleman shouldn't be thinking stuff like that! He sighed and unfolded the clothes and looked at them. He felt his jaw drop.

In his hands was one of his old pirate outfits. There was his red and gold pirate jacket, which had red and white roses embroidered along the hem near the large golden buttons which where all shaped like roses. There was also his old white cotton pirate shirt, and black pants with the large knee high brown boots. His old belt with the roses burnt into the leather was also there.

He had just finished pulling on his boots when France returned, obviously thinking it was safe to do so. England gave him a murderous look, which made France smile as he walked up to him and placed his old black pirate hat with the huge white plume on his head.

"Magnifique!" France announced happily

"How and why did you have these?" Asked England darkly

"Ah do not get angry Angleterre, but when I saw these I just 'ad to borrow them for America's Halloween party! All those beau roses, 'ow could I not?" France sighed dramatically.

"Damn Frog, why must you take all my rose's and rose stuff? The rose is my flower! You always help yourself to my part of the UK garden and take all my roses to give to your lovers. I gave up caring, but this isn't just plant cuttings anymore! This is my precious memorabilia, my history... TWIT!" England said

France climbed into England's lap which caused England to try and push him off and punch him. However before England succeeded, France turned England's head so that he was forced to stare deep into his eyes. Those hypnotic, ocean coloured, marvellous eyes. England felt himself fall into them, while France smiled, he knew England's weakness was looking into his eyes, he could get him to do almost anything. One other country had inherited France's eyes, their son America, who had discovered his father's weakness as well, also enjoyed the benefits of turning his genetically given gift on his farther to get the latest toys.

"mon amour, the rose is the fleur de l'amour, so it is natural that I the pays de l'amour should give them out. " France replied passionately

"Oh? Are you saying I'm not romantic?" England replied

Before France could reply England abruptly stood up toppling France from his lap. France fell hard against the floor, before he could utter a curse of pain England grabbed his shirt by the collar and pulled him to his feet. France slammed into the wall with a force that forced the air from his lungs. He looked at England with surprise and with a little bit of fear. England smirked, and crashed his lips on to Frances. His tongue ventured into France's mouth, much to France's shock. But before France could enjoy himself England pulled away and licked his lips teasingly.

"You wanted to play this game, so here I am. You wanted a pirate tonight so you better be ready to take the consequences. " England told him silkily his face millimetres from the other nations.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 Sadistic pirate

France looked at England in amazement. Was he dreaming? He had to be. Still he wasn't going to waste the moment. France quickly lent forward to return the kiss, but to his disappointment England stepped back with an tut of annoyance. France smiled and shrugged, trying hard not to show his disappointment. However when England placed his hand under Frances chin and tilted back his head so that emerald eyes met the sea of blue, France had a hard job keeping the lust out of his eyes.

"I am the pirate captain here, in case you've forgotten." England scolded

He indicated his grand coat which only the captains could wear. It was a sign of status, and since it held gold stitching, gold buttons and had been personally tailored, maybe by England himself, with the rose patterns it screamed a high position. A position that may have indicated that he had not only one ship but a whole fleet under his command. Therefore it was no surprise that England's old boss had sent the navy after England himself. It was that kind of rebel England that drove France crazy.

"Aucun je n'ai pas oublié." France replied

"I thought I told you not to speak any French tonight? So you're going to disobey a direct order from your captain? Once, that would have got you shot, or at least marooned on an island. But as that would put a dampening on our evening, I'll have to think of a more suitable punishment." England warned

England swooped down to passionately kiss and intrude upon the mouth that had uttered the offensive French language. France was more prepared this time and responded gleefully, their tongues swirling around each others. After what felt like an eternity, they broke apart, and England bit down on Frances bottom lip as he withdrew from his mouth. As England sat up he was muttering something in a language France recognized as a mixture of Latin and Gaelic, and smiling at the droplet of blood that had appeared on Frances lip. Towards the end of the sentence he opened his hand and a riding crop appeared as if from thin air.

"Now now my dear little froggy, You've seen my magic before haven't you?" England teased

Truth be told France actually hadn't seen England perform magic before, well not in his mind any way. He had heard of him doing it, laughed and scorned at the idea, but seeing him actually do it caught him totally of guard. England had known that France would be in shock at seeing his magic, and used it to his advantage. He could always wipe his mind of the magic incident later, like he had in the past when France had stumbled in on his spells. But for now he ripped off Frances shirt. In his savage rebel days he would have thrown a bucket of cold water over the helpless victim who would be receiving the lashing, as it would have made the nerves and skin more sensitive, but tonight it wouldn't be such a heartless attack.

He lifted the crop, which wasn't his first choice of weapon but in this confined space it would have to do, and brought it down on France. France let out a hiss of pain, but he had gotten off lightly as there was no room to for the riding crop to gather momentum in the small space between them. England repeated this assault a few more times, then reached out his hand and placed it between Frances legs. He rubbed and squeezed the growing bulge in Frances pants, while continuing the lashing. France groaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure. England was/is a very sadistic nation really just open a history book to witness his sadism.

France responded by pressing himself harder against Englands hand. England threw the crop to the side and kissed down Frances neck; every now and then nipping at his neck leaving bruises and making France groan and tremble slightly. Curse France and his sensual voice, he was starting to get aroused. He continued moving down France's body, stopping at Frances nipples and gently nipping and sucking at them. He waited until he felt them grow harder under his tongue. He then pulled away from Frances chest and continued kissing down his body going further and further down. By now Frances erection had grown noticeably harder and larger.

"Angleterre!" France cried out in a husky voice

"Yes?" Was the reply

"Please..." panted France

England sat up, his face in a smirk, his eyes glowing with his old evil intent that had frightened everyone in his pirate days. He removed his hand from Frances groin much to the others displeasure.

"But France, I'm terrible at romance and a terrible lover." England teased

England got up and went to walk out of the room. France tried to quickly stop him, but he was to deep in his lust and moved sluggishly. He let out a pathetic moan.

"Angleterre, where are you going?" France pleaded

"I'm off to bed, night." Was the cruel response

"Ow could you? Vous êtes un diable! Un bâtard !" France yelled at him

"Oui, je suis. But I never said you couldn't come with me did I?" England replied with a devilish grin

France got up and freed himself from his trousers while England also began to free himself from his clothing as the two darted towards the closest bedroom. France was the first to arrive, but England used the momentum in his run to push France forcibly on the bed under him.

"You may want to give me some lube." England suggested

"Non, there is no way that I am going to let you top me!" Protested France

"Are you sure? I might just leave and take a cold shower instead then." Threatened England who gripped Frances erection and began moving his hand up and down in a pumping motion to enforce the threat.

France whimpered and threw the bottle of lube at England who caught it in one hand. Obviously he didn't want to take a chance on England's bluff, luckily for England otherwise their positions may have changed. England smiled in victory as he put the lube on his fingers and pushed them into Frances entrance. France wanted to tell him to quite smirking at him, but all he could do was cry out and grip the bed sheets as he felt the fingers move in and out of him moving faster and faster. Once France was bucking his hips along with Englands motions, England withdrew his fingers and put lube on his erection. Placing his hands on Frances hips he entered him both gasping at the feeling. Needless to say that that night France's home was filled with the sounds of their groans, cry's and the complaining of the bed.

All thoughts of Englands argument with his brother had naturally been abandoned. Only thoughts of each other, whether it was to cause the other pleasure or pain, existed. However the next morning was going to force the problem abruptly upon them again.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 Enter Alba

When France awoke the next morning he found himself alone in bed. Before he could convince himself that last night was all a dream, and a rather sensual one at that, he realized he could hear the water of the shower and England Singing. Obviously England didn't think France would be awake for awhile, which he had to admit that England had a valid point because when it came to waking up or arriving early England had it to an art, while he didn't.

He smiled as he realized that England had switched from singing The Wanted's songs to Adele. He listened hardly daring to breath. The U.K brothers had such pleasant singing voices when they were not drunk out of their minds. England and the Ireland's were the best singers in their family. The Ireland's always placed well in the eurovision contest, and England had produced some of the most famous artists and music of all time. Plus he had this uncanny ability of dropping his accent when he sang. Even Wales and Scotland sounded pleasant with their thick accents and unique styles.

France closed his eyes as England's voice swelled into the chorus, and as he sang the first word of the chorus another voice joined him. France bolted up in his bed, and judging from the crash in the bathroom, England was surprised as well. The two of them rushed out into the sitting room which was still littered with their hastily removed clothing, to see a tall fiery red head with wild green eyes and thick busy eyebrows smoking his way through a carton of France's cigarettes. He looked at them with a smirk.

"Come on, tha was the best part!" He teased

"What are you doing here Alba?" Hissed England

France glanced at England and tried to stop the blush that threatened to highlight his features. Englands blonde hair was sticking up in even odder angles due to his hasty attempt to try and towel dry it, and yet again he was shirtless, but this time had managed to find some black jeans to wear. If France thought his blush had gone unnoticed he was to be sadly mistaken. It was very hard to hide anything when you where naked. Scotland, for that was who the other nation was, had noticed the blush and sneered at the two. England looked up at his brother curiously as he hadn't seen France enter, but now he turned to face the man standing slightly behind him.

"Bloody hell France! Put some damn clothes on!" England shouted

Scotland smiled cruelly, and wrapped an arm around his younger brother, England's, shoulders. England scowled at him while France picked up his pants from last night that had found themselves on the coffee table.

"Dinnea worry Albion, Ah have seen Francey naked before. No need tae git jealous, it dinnea work oot." Laughed Scotland

"I hate you, you know." England spat

" Ah ken. Here ah thought yer wid be sick of Frances food by now." Replied Scotland with a grin

He threw something bundled in white paper at England who caught it. It was still warm. England opened it to see what it was. It was fish and chips, cod to be precise, with a little bit of donna kebab (donair) and a small polystyrene container that contained green lumpy goo, which was mushy peas. Despite his better judgement, England felt his mouth water slightly, but he kept that fact a secret to himself and continued his scowl.

"Let me guess, you poisoned it? How did you know I was here anyway?" asked England sprawling out on Frances sofa.

Scotland followed his younger brothers example and spread out on Frances arm chair with his legs over one arm and his back leaning against the other. The two of them used the last remaining seat for Scotland's coat and the towel that England had been carrying. France glared at them, but dared not say anything in case they all got into a fight. In fact he was slightly confused, wasn't the reason that England was here was because he was fleeing his brother? But they seemed to be getting along well, or as well as they did.

"Fret noo, only the best poison for ye. Every time someone kicks your erse you go runnin tae me or France. Ah got here by takin yer Aston Martain V8 Vantage, and France keeps his front door key under the loose stone on his front door step." Scotland told him in a bored voice

England almost choked on his fish, and France rolled his eyes. It had been strange that as soon as Scotland had said that he had poisoned the food England had started eating it. Never in a million years would France understand the U.K siblings relationship.

"YOU TOOK MY ASTON MARTAIN?" England roared

"Aye. Ah needed somethin expensive and flashy to drive around Paris in dinnea ah? Ye thought the same thing otherwise yer Morgan Supersport waur noo be here." Scotland announced

"I just wanted something obviously English to drive around in." England replied feebly

Scotland gave a snort of disbelief, and England couldn't bring himself to look at France. France on the other hand was baffled by the civil interaction the two were having. Still perhaps he could take advantage of their good mood. A perverted smile tugged at his lips as he eyed his wine cabinet, but before he could carry out his plan Scotland disrupted his thoughts.

"Sae France, did ye enjoy yer nigh with the man hoore of Britain?" He asked France slyly

" Fuck off Alba! I told you that I adopted a lot of colonies, just took them under my wing so you might say, to help them get on the right track. Only a few of them are from my own flesh and blood." England retaliated

"Oh Aye, and when those colonies left, ye whuar eager enough to help them, but ye dinnae when it is yer own brother needin yer."Scotland snarled

The atmosphere had turned so unpleasant in a blink of an eye that France was wondering if he should grab his shirt from off the floor and leave to test drive England's cars. Then he remembered this was his house! If he left Scotland and England as they where he would be homeless as they would destroy it.

"Mes amis, ez this really ze best time?" France asked

"Per'aps a nice glass of wine will calm you both non?" France continued

France wished that Canada was here, as he was the only member of the family who was good at keeping the peace. All France's attempts where failing, England and Scotland where glaring daggers at each other and where on their feet. France needed something to distract them, anything!


	5. Chapter 5

Chpt 5 Frances Fantasy.

"Angleterre, if you drove your car to my house why where you drenched and standing out in ze rain?" France asked

France walked between the brothers. Something that he would never do again, as he felt a chill down his spine and his skin broke out in goose bumps as he sensed the danger. However he ignored his fight or flight instincts and pushed England down on the sofa, and sat upon his lap. France gazed into his eyes, knowing that England wouldn't push him away once he looked into them, not because of conscious thought but because he was unconsciously caught in them.

"Per'aps you purposely became drenched so that you could tease me when you removed your wet clothing." France whispered

"In your dreams frog! I actually forgot where you kept your key. I didn't really want to wake you due to the fact I knew you'd get excited to find me at your front door in the early hours of the morning, being the pervert you are of course." England said sitting up straighter while France smiled

"Will ye twa stop it? Yer flirtin is makin me sick. Ah don't need tae ken aboot ma little brothers love life." Scotland snarled

France smirked at Scotland while England was fuming. Not that England could do anything to either of them since he was pinned under France. Scotland was looking disgusted, and settled into the arm chair.

"Are you jealous? You could join us if you wish." France suggested with a wink

"Like hell he is!"England replied quickly

Both Scotland and France looked at England with an air of interest at his comment. France began laughing and Scotland raised a bushy red eyebrow. England felt himself blush, did he just announce that he and France where going to be intimate again tonight or later on today? Damn he didn't mean to do that.

"Hon hon hon 'Ow perverted you are la mon Angleterre. Also not sharing, you really are possessive aren't you?" Teased France.

"You already know that I am possessive, you could say it's the pirate in me. Or perhaps I was just born that way?" England whispered in Frances ear

France sighed in delight as he felt England's hands brush against his waist, grip his hips, and then England tossed him off his lap. France fell to the floor with a crash and felt England's foot on his back holding him down. France began to complain, but stopped quickly when he felt England put more pressure on his back.

"Alba and I were talking. I don't need you to do and say stupid things to draw attention to yourself. " England scolded him.

He then leant down and whispered softly so that only France could hear "I'll thank you later for the distraction"

He stepped on France as he walked over to his disgusted brother. He felt a smile tug at his lips when he heard France groan in pain and cough. However as he sat on the arm of Scotland's chair all signs of his energy disappeared and he looked tired, as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. He leant his forehead in the palm of his hand and rested his elbow on his folded legs. The sight made France wish he had his camera on hand. Scotland on the other hand didn't look very impressed.

"Alba, you may not realize this, but I am in charge of the whole families finances, well apart from our brother Republic of Ireland. I make sure that everyone in the UK household has just enough to get by in this economy. But our idiotic brothers North and Republic both got into a huge debt that can only be beaten by Greece's. We are not in the best position ourselves, and even then all the "extra" money we have goes to helping out North. I can't... we can't... Oh hell this is hard enough without having to admit it out loud, we can't afford to bail Republic out as well as North and ourselves ok? I have to place the four of us first. Hate me all you like, but you'll hate me even more if I starve the rest of us. I can't win in this situation, either way our families going to suffer, I just had to choose which choice would make our family suffer a little less. " England admitted sadly

Scotland grumbled and both UK brothers suddenly looked quiet depressed. Interesting, France thought, I didn't think England cared that much for the Republic of Island. Of course the two where brothers, so deep down the two must care somewhat for each other. Still France didn't like the gloominess and soon was offering around drinks. For Scotland, whiskey, for England a bitter, and for himself a nice red wine.

Both UK brothers where drinking heavily, and as the clock on the mantle struck one in the afternoon, England was drunk, France felt a little tipsy and Scotland still looked unaffected. As per usual, when drunk England became the life of the party, and a couple of hours later, after a few emotional stories, drunken singing, and passionate kissing, even Scotland, who had mostly watched the proceedings, had to admit he was drunk. France, who had stopped drinking when he began to feel the slightest effects of the alcohol grinned slyly at the two drunk brothers who had started singing and announcing that each other where the best brother in the world. Their announcements had to mean they were completely pissed out of their minds, and France wondered for the second time that day if his fantasy for a threesome with the brothers could turn into a reality.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 Not such a bad brother

At first France had thought he had succeeded. He had groped both brothers and had been rewarded when they both kissed him. But that was as far as it went. England saw Scotland kiss France and pushed him away from him.

"What the hell? I thought you said you guys where only friends!" England slurred

"Aye we are." Scotland replied in confusion

England then punched his brother in the face, and Scotland didn't need prompting to retaliate. Soon blood flew everywhere; France sighed, he would have to ask the brothers what carpet cleaner they used to get the blood out of the carpet in their own house. Scotland seemed to have a broken nose, and England had a black eye and split lip. France wondered if he should break them up, but as they were fighting over him he decided to let them continue on. It wasn't as flattering a situation as he had thought; especially as France had seen the two brothers fight in the same way over cereal and biscuits. So after another two hours of this behaviour France was left with no other choice as he was beginning to fear for the well being of his house.

"Je suis le pays de l'amour (I am the country of love). So there ez plenty of love to go around non?" France suggested flicking his hair.

Both brothers paused in mid fighting pose. England had a fistful of his brothers red hair and Scotland had a fistful of Englands blonde. Both of them had their other fists poised in a punch. France's cocky smile disappeared as he realized that the two brothers where putting the pieces of the puzzle together. Both shared a look and identical evil smiles spread across their features. The brothers slinked to Frances side, England on the right, Scotland on the left. They both swung an arm around the nervous Frances shoulders.

"So that was your game was it?" England asked with a sneer

"Ah bet little froggy here thought tha for one nigh he could conquer Britain." Scotland laughed coldly

France was trying hard not to show his fear. England's wrath by himself he would take on any day, but the two brothers together where a force to be recognized. He smiled a weak smile.

"Ahhh you cannot blame me for trying." France told them laughing slightly

The brothers smiled and stepped away from France. They clasped each other in each other's arms. Holding each other like lovers bodies pressing against each other, and looking provokingly in Frances direction. France felt his heart skip a beat, and wished he had a camera on him. Scotland turned England's face towards him so the two where gazing into each other's emerald eyes. England traced Scotland's lips with one of his fingers, then the two placed their foreheads together. They watched France out of the corner of their eyes, and France let out a gasp. Horrified at letting his gasp be so audible France covered his mouth with his hand and blushed.

The brothers couldn't hold back anymore, they broke apart and fell to the ground laughing hard. The look on France's face had been priceless. Both of them had tears of mirth blossoming from the corner of their eyes. Once their laughter had subsided and tears had been brushed away, the two drunk brothers looked at France, grinning sadistically.

"See Frog, you couldn't possibly handle the both of us at the same time. We didn't even do anything and you gasped loudly." England taunted

"Aye, an yer a perv tae boot, so we would noo want tae join yer anyway!" Scotland hissed

France shrugged and made his way to the kitchen, it was too late for lunch but too early for dinner but so far he had not had anything to eat that day. He would have offered something to the brothers but they were now back to laughing at him so he decided to ignore them.

England and Scotland stopped laughing. They leant their backs against the sofa, sitting on the carpeted ground. England yawned, he was feeling sleepy, probably from the lack of sleep he had had the night before. He leant against Scotland, who didn't move or push him away.

"You know what Alba? It's been far too long since we laughed together like that. I wish we could do it a bit more often. You're not a complete tosser after all." England told him sleepily

"Thanks ah guess. Yer not a complete bas either." Scotland replied

There was no reply apart from England's heavy even breathing as he had fallen asleep next to his brother. Scotland smiled, this reminded him of their childhood, a life before, Rome, before the Saxons, and before the Vikings. A time when all the brothers had gotten along well, and spent their time running in the woods, quarrelling, and hunting.

France stood leaning against the wall observing the exchange the brothers had had. He gave Scotland a sandwich , which Scotland accepted moving carefully so not to disturb his little brother. France curled up on the chair opposite and ate his sandwich. He watched England sleep peacefully; he really was quite adorable when he was asleep. Scotland noticed where the nation was looking.

"Yer better noo be thinkin aboot makin him cry. Ah ken his cryin face is cute, but after the thing with America I dinnea want tae pick up the pieces again." Scotland warned

"That ez very protective of you." France observed

"He is ma little brother, ah take ma brotherly duties seriously. He is noo a bad little brother really. He jus tries tae hard." Scotland replied


	7. Chapter 7

Chap7 How to cook a frog

When England awoke he was completely alone, slumped on the floor with his back to the sofa. The living room was dark and there seemed to be no signs of life around him. He sat up, and placed a hand on his forehead, it wasn't throbbing so he must still be drunk. He cursed the fact that his sleep patterns where probably completely out of whack now. He slowly got to his feet, stumbling slightly, and walked to the front window and flicked the curtains and the net curtains aside to check the street outside. Just as he thought, the Aston Martian was gone, and the rain was still pouring outside staining the asphalt and the red bricks a darker shade.

With a sigh, he staggered down the hallway, his bare feet creating muffled footsteps as he walked. He came to the first door on the right and opened it. The pile of blue silk bed clothes squirmed on the bed in front of him in the room. A sleepy looking France's head appeared from the bedclothes with his blonde hair in a ruffled bed head state. He yawned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes then smiled kindly at England.

"Est-ce que tout est bien ? Did you ave a bad dream?" France teased, but not unkindly.

"Yes it was horrific! I dreamt I came into your room and hopped into your bed on my own free will!" England told him as he walked across the room and slid under the covers next to France.

France allowed himself to laugh at the englishmans dry sense of humour. He received a gentle nudge in the ribs from England. England wasn't angry, he moved closer to France and stared deep into his eyes. It was clear what he wanted, no one just hopped into the country of loves bed just for a cuddle or a conversation.

"I think et ez because you missed me so much that tu came 'ere. Ez et not Angleterre?" Whispered France warmly

"That isn't it at all! Stupid froggy git." Huffed England blushing

"Non? Then I will just go back to sleep then. Bonne nuit." France replied

France turned his back on England. He could imagine the other nations face dropping in disappointment. He smiled to himself, and let five minutes tick past on his alarm clock, after all England was stubborn. After it had passed he slowly counted to three in his head. He was bluffing and if England wasn't so drunk he probably would have figured out quickly that he was. However France knew as he was now England would take the bait. Sure enough France felt England wrap his arms around his waist and snuggle against him.

"Well, maybe a little. I'm starting to get use to your horrible scent, the fact that you go on strike over everything and that your language sounds like you have a cold. Not to mention your cooking is gay and flakey, which I suppose is natural since it reflects your personality." England muttered

France sighed as he turned to face England while remaining in his arms. Their faces were an inch apart. France was always amazed by the fact that England could flatter and insult at the same time. It seems that to be English you insulted the ones you loved more than anyone else. France had watched England and his brothers try and kill each other , then the next moment they would all be laughing over Johnny English like a true family night movie night. Family love in a British family was rough, but if anyone from outside said family tried to pick on or upset a member then whole family would unite extremely strongly and try and take that person down. Yes, British families where confusing and violent against each other, but you didn't mess with them. As such France felt that maybe the fact he was being insulted could mean that England considered him family or at least a close friend. But who could tell?

"Love you too Angleterre." France said with his most charming smile

"Prove it!" England dared him

"If zat ez what you wish mon cher."

Scotland arrived back at Frances house cursing the fact that the French knew nothing about driving. Well in his opinion anyway, but it wasn't really fair of him to say that as he had decided to drive down the middle of the road. The house was as quiet as when he left it, and he hurriedly lit one of the cigarettes that he had just purchased. Scotland stumbled to the couch, looking for England with the intention of waking him up and placing a few cigarette burns on him. He glanced around and cursed himself for miss placing his little brother, which was what he honest to god thought in his whisky sodden state. He froze as he heard his brother's voice give a guttural groan. Damn that Frenchman he must have started torturing his brother to get back at him for the past. Normally Scotland would understand the need to torture his brother, but no one interrupted his own torture attempts! Blood is thicker than water so he should have the first right to spill that blood.

With a hurried drunken run he ran to the first door on the right of the hallway and flung it open as it hit the wall behind it with a terrible bang. He paused as he took in the scene before his eyes, half with amusement and half with a wish that he could rip his eyes from their sockets and burn them.

The sight that greeted him was England lying on the bed, his hands gripping the blue bedclothes and France was kneeling between his spread legs with his mouth around his erection. Both brothers looked at each other and blushed bright red. France sat up and took in the scene, his hand still pumping Englands shaft.

"Ahh ... France... Stop" England tried to command but it sounded more like begging.

"Bonjour Scotland, did you per'aps want to join us?" France asked as England gave another moan

"Ah bloody well dinnea!" Shouted Scotland turning to leave

"Oh I am sorry mon ami, I forgot that you're not as skilled as angelterre in matters of l'amour." Taunted France

France bent down and kissed the brightly blushing England on the lips while Scotland processed his comment. His drunken mind finally made sense of the insult, but sadly reacted in a very drunk and stupid way.

"Is tha sae? Ah will show ye!" Snarled Scotland, obviously in his drunkenness his reason had been compromised.

France sat up just as Scotland reached him and kissed him passionately, exploring France's mouth with his tongue. France could taste the whisky on his breath, but that didn't stop him from smiling into the kiss. He had got his way, it seemed that tonight he will be enjoying the company of the two wild UK brothers in his bed.

France let out a gasp as Scotland's hand slide itself down to his erection. He continued stroking England's erection but with his other hand on Scotland's, he was rewarded when both brothers groaned and began bucking their hips with the movements of his skilled hands. Before France knew it he was thrusting himself into England while Scotland was thrusting himself into France. France felt like he was burning up due to the feeling of England's tightness around him and Scotland hitting his prostate. He panted and was flushed, he must have also been hot to the touch because Scotland and England seemed to be sneering at him.

"This is how we UK brothers cook a frog." England teased between gasps

"I uum must let ahh the two of you cook the dish more ahh often" France spluttered

The next morning found France and England sleeping in each other's arms. France slowly opened his eyes and as he did so he caught a glimpse of England's face and gasped. His gasp caused England to lazily open one eye, and then his eyes flew wide open and his mouth opened in an "oh" expression.

"Eyebrows"

"Hair"

They both said to each other in horror. Both got up suddenly to rush to the mirror on the far side of France's room, but England was now suffering the side effects of the liquor and collapsed back on to the bed clutching his throbbing head. France however stood in front of the mirror and let out an ear piercing shriek. This made England cry out in pain and hide his head under the pillow.

"Shut it frog, you're doing my head in." Cried England in a hoarse whisper

"Forget your 'ead Angleterre, look at mon beau 'air!" France said breaking down in tears

England slowly withdrew from the shelter the pillow offered and slowly sat up. The sobbing naked Frenchman now had blonde stubble but dark Celtic blue hair. England sighed and slowly staggered to the mirror to see what damage had been done to him. The England that was wincing back had the same scruffy hair, but his past thick eyebrows where slender and looked like someone had plucked them. England grit his teeth but stopped when it caused his head to ache.

" Stop your crying, its only Celtic war paint. I once used it on Alba when I was little..." England whispered in an attempt to stop his voice from hurting his head that felt like Spain had sliced it with his axe.

"What 'appened?" France asked his eyes growing wide

England blushed but continued his story anyway. " I was just a young nation, I thought that Alba dyed his hair red because to me it was a unnatural colour. One day when he was sleeping I took some of my old Celtic war paint and decided to dye his hair blue for him, because it was his favourite colour and I thought he would like it better than red. Let's just say when he woke up he wasn't very happy. It took two weeks to finally wash out. "

France chuckled at the image of a blue haired, white skinned and red eyebrowed Scotland. He must have looked like the Union Jack. But Frances chuckling stopped when the words two weeks sank in. England however ignored France as he noticed a note on the corner of the mirror.

" To the two idiots,

How dare you take advantage of me when I was drunk! I don't know how you managed to get me so drunk to start with. Anyway hope you like your new hair and eyebrows you bastards!

-Scotland" Read England who had also translated it from Scottish to English

"What is he talking about? What did we do last night? Well I obviously know what we did, but what about him?" Asked England

"Ah nothing to bothersome, ee seemed to be 'aving fun zats all." France said uneasily

England however didn't seem to be paying attention to France at all, even though the Frenchman was fidgeting nervously. All England cared about was that his eyebrows where ruined!

The first thing England noticed when he slammed the front door shut on the UK brother's large home was his older twin brother Wales sitting on the sofa reading a book. Wales looked up from his book and started giggling when he saw England's eyebrows.

"Shut it. Where is that stupid twat anyway?" Snarled England

"Hello to you too. Alba went out, probably to visit Nessie. She always seems able to calm him down when he's angry. You really did it this time. What did you actually do?" Wales asked his voice in awe

"I don't remember, I was drunk, but I have a horrible feeling that I set the Frog on him." England replied his eyes scanning the coat hooks on the wall.

Wales broke out in a fit of giggles again, but England ignored him as he found what he was searching for. There was Scotland's coat from the night before. England dug his hands into the pockets and sure enough a pack of Scotland's cigarettes emerged in England's hand.

Wales looked curiously at the packet that England was holding as England walked into the kitchen. There was banging of cupboard doors and England re-emerged holding a large mixing bowl. He disappeared for a few minutes and returned with the bowl filled to the brim with Scotland's cigarettes and a carrier bag full of the empty cartons. His curiosity got the better of him and Wales followed England into the kitchen. He watched wide eyed as England pulled two large bottles of vinegar from the cupboard and poured them both into the bowl making a cigarette and vinegar soup. After a few minutes of letting them soak, England pulled out all the cigarettes and left them to dry. He turned to Wales.

"Don't tell him it was me Cymru." England warned

"I think he's going to figure it out anyway Albion." Sniggered Wales

After awhile of watching TV England got up and placed the now dry cigarettes into the cartons and disappeared to return each carton to their original spot. When England was done he looked up at the clock and smiled, perfect timing. England raced down the stairs and grabbed his jacket and slipped into his shoes. As he raced out the door he passed Scotland on the front step.

"Whaur ye goin?" He asked eyes narrowing suspiciously

" Got a world meeting to get to and I promised Froggy I would pick him up." England replied with a shrug as he paused long enough to tell him and darted off again.

Scotland watched as England drove away in his Jaguar, and with a huff let himself into the house. Wales looked up at him briefly and then returned to his book. Scotland rummaged in the coat he was wearing last night and pulled out a box of cigarettes. He smiled to himself as he put it in his mouth. Suddenly he spat the cigarette out and the offending cigarette fell to the floor. Scotland dashed around the house trying a cigarette from every carton he found. Wales hide his face behind his book so Scotland couldn't see that he was laughing.

"Ah am goin tae rip his bloody head off!" Scotland roared

Authors notes

Jaguar, Aston Martian and Morgan are all English car companies that are still owned by the British. I see in a lot of fanfics that people use mini, but England sold that company to Germany, so Mini is now German. Jag isn't doing so well at the moment so that might be sold off as well. There's a lot of over cars that England still owns, so I imagine that the UK brothers have a huge garage to go with their huge house. What can I say, England loves cars.


End file.
